Lazy Days

Growing up outside DC meant 100 degree summer days touring the monuments with my brother and my Mom's best friend's two children. The four of us complained so much our mothers put our words to music:

I'm tired
I'm hungry
I want my Nintendo
I'm tired
I'm hungry
I want my Nintendo


It's beautiful. Studying pulmonary pathophys this afternoon, I've been singing to myself:
I'm tired
I'm hungry
I don't want to study


I'm listening to:
Tom Waits: Rain Dogs

Pitchfork musings Part II

My next example is on the bitchier side, but here goes. While studying this last weekend at my coffeeshop, I overheard the following conversation:

extremely nice hipster coffeeshop employee 1: Pitchfork only gave white blood cells a 6.9 while they gave satan a 7.1
extremely nice hipster coffeeshop employee 2: Totally. I mean it's just like, one guy's opinion. I totally wouldn't have given de stijl a 9.3
enhce1: yeah, I have such a crush on meg white
enhce2: totally, she's so pale
enhce1: yeah

I fudged the numbers a bit, but it was the least ironic conversation I've ever heard in my life.


I'm listening to:
Charles Mingus: Mingus Ah Um

Path Lab

We had our first Pathology lab this afternoon. There were lungs with pulmonary emboli intact, right at the pulmonary artery bifurcation, one spleen with a small artery infarct and thus just a triangle of dead tissue, and another all black with necrosis. They came in with on a tray, covered by a moist blue towel that was slowly peeled back to reveal the body parts as the Path resident described a hypothetical case.

I think what I can take from it is that I'll never be happy when in the same room as preserved body parts. To look at another person's brain, massive embolism not withstanding, is to wonder what thoughts it once contained.


I'm listening to:
Magazine: Maybe it's right to be nervous now

Wish me luck on my presentation today:

I have my first Doctoring Exam.


I'm listening to:
Miles Davis: Sketches of Spain

Maybe fetuses feel no pain

Check it out

This I imagine is probably true. From what I've learned, the thalamus is very much the relay center for all the pain pathways; neurons transmitting information to the frontal cortex on pain synapse in the thalamus or the anterior cingulate gyrus. Which apparently aren't developed by the time first trimester abortions are performed. I'd go back and check my notes, but I have a date with The Adonis in half an hour and have to get dressed... so I will later.

When I think about the future, I often wonder whether I could perform an abortion. Ob-gyn makes a lot of sense to me right now, given that I want to spend time on obstetric fistulas in West Africa. But then there's the question of how I would practice here in America... and while I've aborted mouse fetuses for my lab work, I haven't quite worked my feelings on humans out yet. I guess I'll go ahead and marinate on that over Thai.


I'm listening to
Nico: Chelsea Girl

Things that annoy me about Rachel Ray

4. her ridiculous themes
meals to make when you're working late; meals to make when you're taking the kids to activities; meals to make when you want to eat. Fuck: it's 30 minute meals we don't need another fucking theme that doesn't revolve around fucking food

3. worcestershire sauce. you can't pronounce it, neither can I. difference is, I recognize that it's gross and lends every single one of your meals the same flavor.

2. EVOO. I actually think this is a change for the better, because for the last two seasons every time I heard her say EVOO, I had to wait to hear the 'extra virgin olive oil" partafterwards. She's dropped the explanation now, I guess her fan base is considered knowledgable enough... whatever it is, it's a stupid, stupid nickname

1. she's on every night from 6-7 which is exactly when I want to be watching food network


ew ew ew. how was I not informed of this until now? Weezer's new video is Rivers et al., playing at the Playboy mansion, with Hef and his 'girlfriends,' overweight hipsters and skanks in their underwear.

way to go, Weez: now you're not only the single worst concert I've ever went to, but you're also the worst music video I've ever seen. Any good you did with the muppets video is eggregiously overshadowed by this horror,

Marion Barry, Mayor for Life

Say what you will, how can you not cheer along, Marion Barry, Mayor for Life!

Busted twice for smoking crack, traces of cocaine found on another occasion in his car, maybe none of that quite matters when you've got charisma on your side.



It's all about NPR and DCL: National Public Radio and Delicious Coors Light do a perfect afternoon make

The thing with immunology is that, much like orgo, I think it's make believe. It's pretty to draw the pictures and have molecules interacting and then changing structure, but when I know it takes dozens of tries to get an experiment to run correctly, what am I to assume the molecules are doing the rest of the time? I became a chemistry major because I thought it was fun to draw arrows and then erase lines to show that bonds were being broken. The whole thing was a puzzle I just liked to finish.

It has not escaped my notice that this has potential ramifications for my world view. What do I think is controlling the immune system, given that for most people it functions pretty predictably? Am I foregoing science and going intelligent design? Perhaps I've come to believe in the Flying Spaghetti Monster theory of life?

I'm going shopping for Golas.

macrophages drool when they eat bacteria

I'm concerned it can't possibly be a good day: I woke up this morning drooling on myself, then when I went to steam my milk, the steamer fell inside the cup.

On the plus side, Claire Danes has returned to the red hair that made her famous for her turn in Shop Girl. I think it looks delightful, here's the trailer.

Having sent a petition to ABC imploring them to keep My So-Called Life on the air back in middle school, I am now almost excited to go to the movies. Almost.



So I'm listening to:
Paul Simon- Songs from the Capeman

A pictoral explanation of why I started this weblog

Listening to:
Matmos: A Chance to Cut is a Chance to Cure

On Justine Frischmann

Add another item to the Justine-Frischmann-is-the-coolest-ever List: her old roommate is Maya Arulpragasam, the M.I.A. girl. She's the brains behind Elastica, first band I ever fell hard for, and she got me into Blur (because she went with Damon Albarn), Pavement (because she cheated on the adorable Damon with Stephen Malkmus), and Wire (because she stole their music). Lucky lucky bitch



So of course I'm listening to:
M.I.A.- Arular
but seriously, Bucky Done Gun is the most infectious song since Sophie Ellis-Bextor's Murder on the Dance Floor

I think the important thing to remember here is that T-cells need help to get it up unless they're with buxom dendritic cells.

The other professional antigen presenting cells, macrophages and B cells, often need to further mature before they can activate a naive T-cell.

More to follow as the story develops...




And I'm listening to
Spoon- Gimme Fiction

(backwards, because according to Stereogum, that may be the right way. whatever. it's still yummy)

The Faint

While I am, ultimately, adrift in a sea of professional confusion, I can name one really good reason I'm glad to become a doctor: when I faint, I'm always surrounded by physicians who can help me.

I'll grant you that today during Doctoring Class, I only briefly blacked out. Still, I take great solace in the fact that in the room were 3 family medicine docs and 2 pediatricians, any one of whom could have resuscitated me immediately.

Last time I fainted it was for real and into the arms of a nurse in the OR. But that's too good a story to waste on this afternoon...

I'm listening to
Wire- 154

Please Please Please

Hooray- the new Fiona album will officially, finally be released on October 4. Now, I’ve had Extraordinary Machine for months and months (in fact I declared it Album of the Spring back in April), but I think songs will have been reworked to eek a single out of the album.

And there’s a brand new song at www.fiona-apple.com: Parting Gift. Man, that is a phallic, phallic picture on the site.

Most memorable Fiona memory: the eight front row tickets Alan and I scored for her show at Constitution Hall, wherein she called me smart for knowing when the band intro was coming.

Listening to:
Fiona Apple- Extraordinary Machine

Fuck Graham, man. While Blur may or may not trump Fiona, solo crappy coxon loses this fight big time.

med school gets prulent

Conversation I hope to have later this evening:

Friend: So, what'd you learn in school today?
Me: You cannot make an adjective out of pus.
Friend: oh... Oh...

I have mold

Listening to:
Super Furry Animals- Fuzzy Logic

Managing Medical School

The concept of "not going to class" is a simple one: one assumes one will make up the time one lost on the last lectures (those one spaced out on, or during which one read Sons and Lovers) during the time of these new lectures, thereby giving one a full half-week of extra leisure time. Then, clearly, during some undefined "imaginary" time, one will make up for those lectures one missed when one was trying to recover from being behind.

The system works great until one freaks out. Then one is freaking out, and in addition, one is a full week (how the fuck did that happen ?) behind on the material. At that point, "not going to class" seems like the most idiotic thing one could possibly do, so one vows never to do it again. Until the next exam period, when the lecturers prove themselves worthess (and by worthless I mean no better than the book) yet again.

Lather rinse and repeat.

Listening to:
The Decemerists: Her Majesty the Decemerists. no racial epihtets on this album, which is ideal.

Alton Brown is staging a 60s Swedish meatball party for his program and needs male extras. I thought I was being very helpful by offering to ducktape my boobs down, but I was rejected nonetheless. Bummer, huh?


Listening to:
Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah!- awww, damn

just a try...